Return to Crescent Moon Manor (Third Update)

When Iver woke up, she realized she was lying in Miss Bayard's arms.

Their postures were strange.

Bayard took off his shoes and lay down on the soft bench in the tavern's private room, his back against the cold wall. The Shadow Fiend had returned to Iver's shadow.

Iver lay in her arms like a rag doll, her slender waist tightly held by one hand, her head resting on Miss Bayard's chest. Bayard even tucked her outer leg in, bending her knee slightly to shield the girl lying on top of her, preventing Iver from rolling off in her sleep.

Although the Child of the Moon is a resurrected corpse, she is not an undead. Unlike the Shadow Fiend's body, which feels as cold and piercing as iron in winter, Beard's body is quite warm.

At this moment, Bayard closed her eyes and breathed calmly. She gently inhaled the scent of Iver's hair... the fresh fragrance of the citrus-scented shampoo used at the Crescent Moon Manor.

It is said that citrus fruits can stimulate the appetite of the Child of the Moon, so this can probably be considered an appetizer design.

Sensing the change in Iver's breathing, Bayard immediately opened his eyes. "Awake?"

"... How did I fall asleep?"

Iver had just woken up and was still a little dazed.

This body is far too weak. Not only weak, but it may also be experiencing some health problems. Iver is still unable to use the Sacrificial Fire Method to recover... which has left her with a long-forgotten headache upon waking.

This could be due to catching a cold, or it could be that the body has been overburdened by eating a full meal after a long time.

"... Are you blacking out?"

Bayard was somewhat surprised. "You can black out from beer? Or did you drink too much broth?"

Now, when Iver tries to recall, he can't quite remember when he fell asleep.

The last memory she had left was Miss Bayard revealing her identity and sadly sighing, "Thank goodness none of this is real."

This made Iver look up intently, instinctively reaching upwards. Bayard instinctively tilted her head back, trying to avoid Iver's touch. But she quickly realized what was happening and instead lowered her head slightly, allowing Iver to touch her face more easily.

I will remember you.

Iver replied earnestly, "Not just Miss Bayard, nor just my Shadow Fiend... but you, who is unique."

"If that's the case, you won't just be a phantom or a fabricated Doll. You will interact with me and be remembered by me, just like everyone else."

Upon hearing this, Bayard paused for a moment.

She laughed helplessly, "Sure enough, you really did black out."

"...What?"

"You've already said these words once."

Bayard chuckled softly, picked Iver up in one swift motion, and sat her sideways as he put her shoes back on. "But I won't get tired of hearing it again."

As she spoke, she put on her shoes.

He then vigorously rubbed Iver's face to wake her up. Amidst her angry cries of "Don't pinch my face after I just put on my shoes!", he gave a mischievous smile and burst into hearty laughter.

She extended her hand to Iver: "Want to wander around some more? The nights in this era... it's almost three in the morning now, but there should still be some places to have fun. Even things that are fake can bring people a 'beautiful' experience. That's probably why the Twin Mirrors pursue perfection."

Striving for perfection...

Iver smiled upon hearing this.

That amber is the "Perfect Eternal God".

"Do you have anywhere you'd like to take me?"

Iver put his hand on hers and asked in return.

Bayard thought for a moment, then lowered his head and smiled, "That should be it. This is the place I most wanted to bring you here."

"Then let's go back."

"Good."

Bayard nodded slightly.

This brief encounter is also coming to an end.

When we first met, the coldness and arrogance on her face had vanished. Her brows were no longer constantly furrowed, and her eyes no longer held contempt and scrutiny towards others.

Today, Bayard is more like a young and ordinary girl than the famous tycoon of the empire and the sole controller of the Bayard Investment Group.

—Those false things will one day vanish like smoke. They are neither beautiful nor eternal.

When that time comes, the only thing that will remain is the mark you leave in the hearts of others.

If there is anything truly real in this illusory world, it is probably these imprints. And among all these imprints, only love and hope are eternal.

For "Beard," who abandoned the light to survive, all she could leave behind was a trace of "love."

Remember me... Iver. If so, I can survive.

Bayard murmured her real name in his heart. It was the real name the girl had spoken when she was drunk.

Since even someone as strong as you is worried about whether you are a fake... then I must also become strong.

Ha, only by seeing others suffer more than I do can I alleviate my own melancholy. How despicable and cowardly I am.

Bayard chuckled self-deprecatingly and gripped Iver's hand tightly, as if grasping Iver's shadow.

Meanwhile, on the other side...

A little girl with silver-white hair was clutching her waist and swaying as she made her way through the Secret Passage.

That was a philosopher.

Her face was gloomy, and the heavy killing intent suppressed her emotions, making it almost impossible for the blue light of the Path of Wisdom in her eyes to light up— the Path of Wisdom is a path that can only be fully resonated with by maintaining absolute rationality, and she clearly did not belong to it at this moment.

Finding out where the Secret Passage was took up far too much of her time. And even then, she still couldn't find her two teammates—they seemed to have vanished into thin air.

"Could he have been killed?" the philosopher thought maliciously.

She had just witnessed a dismemberment; the dismembered youth seemed to be, or possibly, the Forge Lady.

She was a righteous person and could not accept such an evil and depraved ritual. Being of noble birth, she was unwilling to lower herself to play her role, so she directly cursed aloud. This energetic behavior piqued the interest of the Child of the Moon ... After a simple hunt, he became the "protagonist" of the banquet.

The philosopher's primary profession was Demon Scholar, so she naturally felt no discomfort. However, the realization that the Child of the Moon could eat people in addition to drinking blood terribly horrified her and made her truly aware of the danger of this ritual.

The young man's eyeballs became desserts, while his liver was cut up and plated. He was auctioned off for a high price, bringing the atmosphere to a climax as part of the banquet.

But the philosopher knew that the Child of the Moon did not need to eat people to survive. It was merely an act of violence driven by the monsters' interests.

Even Demon Scholar wouldn't easily commit such evil acts. While they may kill, steal corpses, execute Demon Scholar, and even torture the living, their ultimate goal is always ritual materials. Indeed, some rituals require the bodies of humans who have died painfully, and some materials are inherently imbued with evil.

But the Demon Scholar ultimately had a purpose... while the Child of the Moon were merely unleashing unrestrained malice.

Even Demon Scholar think you guys are too extreme!

Unable to reunite with her teammates... forced into a corner, she had no choice but to enter the "private room" on her own. To facilitate her escape, she chose a room that was secluded enough and near the end of the room.

As a result, her body almost became tattered and broken.

This disgusted her to the point of near rage—those vile, disgusting, utterly awful monsters, how dare they do such a thing to me! Do you know who I am, you stupid scum! And just thinking about how these depraved monsters held nearly half the votes in the Upper Council of the Iris Flower Kingdom made the Iris Person so disgusting.

She felt so angry that she couldn't help but cough.

She coughed up blood-tinged foam and spit out bloody phlegm—proof that she had almost died in that room.

—When we get back, we'll have to increase the pressure on the Iris even more.

No, we must find a way to wage war against the Iris! We must eliminate the Child of the Moon!

"A race so disgusting doesn't deserve to exist in this world!" The philosopher, Stibium's Lieutenant General, thought bitterly.

Update complete! Nearly 8,000 words! I'll finish writing tomorrow before posting, and let the cat sleep in in the morning... so I probably won't be able to update at noon, but I should be able to post three chapters by 6 pm!

I need your votes!